


It Has a Name

by ShutUpandPull



Category: Castle
Genre: Caskett, F/M, One Shot, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6399163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShutUpandPull/pseuds/ShutUpandPull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beckett learns something about herself from Castle. Naturally, she's skeptical, but she plays along because loves the game and she's been without him for three days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Has a Name

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and posted this piece elsewhere back in 2013, re-read it today, and decided to give it a wee edit. No matter how I feel about the show and its direction these days, I can always count on these two characters to make me smile.

He pulled her body in against his, their fit like the only two puzzle pieces ever designed to align so perfectly, and her leather weekend bag dropped to the floor with a thud, an unacknowledged consequence of their fervent embrace. He broke from her for just seconds to push the door closed behind her, but they weren’t apart for long, her need to refill after three days absent any contact demanding his immediate and prolonged attention.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Castle whispered between samples of her lips. “And it sure sounds like you’ve missed me too, Detective Beckett,” he boasted behind a self-satisfied grin. His hands gripped her hips tightly as he leaned in for another taste, but he stumbled forward awkwardly, the target of his impending overture having inched backwards when his eyes fell gently closed. “What’s--what’s wrong?” he asked as he opened his eyes to a look he knew all too well, his body buzzing palpably with eagerness to resume the long-awaited business at hand.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Castle? And, what’s with the smug grin?” Beckett’s hands perched atop her hips as his brow furrowed in apparent confusion. “Not that I’m not used to it by now,” she added under her breath.

Two minutes into their reunion and he’d already done something to tick her off. Sadly, he knew, that wasn’t a record. “Really, Detective? I haven’t seen you in, like, seventy-five hours - not that I was counting. Do you really want to _talk_ right now?” He took a step to bridge the gap between them but her hand landed flat against his chest in veto.

“You’re the one that started this, Castle. Now, spill it,” she commanded, sounding every bit the tough cop he fell so hard for. 

“Okay, fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” he quipped sarcastically. “You just--you do this thing sometimes when you kiss me.” His brain swirled just thinking about it and his eyes dropped to her lips.

“Define _thing_ ,” Beckett grumbled, though her heart seemed to skip a beat as she absorbed his gaze.

“It’s just this sound you make.” He couldn’t help but smile. “It’s a tiny sound, but it might as well be the roar of a lion for all its power. And you make it sometimes and I can feel it against my lips and it’s like this vibration and it tingles and I know in that second that you want-”

“Castle,” she interrupted. “Um, first, thank you for that thorough albeit rambling explanation. And second, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Sounds like your writer’s imagination has gotten the better of you - again,” she chuckled, trying to play it off as though his words hadn’t traveled through her body and landed at the very heart of three days of want.

 “Are you serious?” Castle squealed incredulously. “You think I’m making this up? Well, let me just say that denial is _not_ a pretty color on you, Detective Beckett,” he huffed in feigned affront, bending to retrieve her bag and moving off towards the bedroom.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Writer Boy? We’re not done here,” Beckett insisted. 

“Wow, so you’re in denial _and_ bossy. I’m a lucky man tonight,” Castle replied without turning to face her. She couldn’t see his smile, but it was there. He took one more step, stopped, and let the bag drop to the floor once again. When he pivoted, Beckett was standing inches from him. “Um, whoa, add stealthy to that list,” he teased, nearly stepping right into her.

“So, I think I’d like to hear for myself exactly what this delusion of yours sounds like, so I’m going to need a demonstration, Castle. Let’s go.” She drew her tongue gently across her lips in preparation and made certain he watched her do it.

“I’m sorry, a what, now?” he replied, though he heard clearly what she asked of him. He was stalling in anticipation of the impending embarrassment. “Are you asking me to try and recreate the Kate-Beckett-Please-Don’t-Ever-Stop-Kissing-Me sound for you?” 

Wait a second, this could get fun, he thought but didn’t portray.

“Oh, please tell me you haven’t actually named it, Castle. Wait, not that it’s an _it_ , which it isn’t, at all,” she sputtered. “Can we--can we just get on with this? What do you need from me to make this happen?” she asked, clearing her throat.

Her noticeably blushed cheeks and her endearing fluster were almost more than he could bear. “Well, I can see this exercise is going to be quite romantic,” he retorted with a crack of his neck to the left and to the right as if in preparation for a bout in the boxing ring. “I, Kate Beckett for the sake of this farce, am going to kiss you, Richard Castle,” he told her, his eyes fixed on hers. “Wow, this is weird,” he mumbled, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear and appreciating the shiver she tried so hard to hide. “What I need from you, Richard Castle, is simply to be the very best kisser the world has ever seen, as always. Also, listen carefully and be sure to take mental notes, because in a few minutes, when you’re Kate Beckett again, you’re going to owe me an apology.” He leaned in towards her. “And tonight, that apology will come in the form of my choosing.”

“Oh, will you just stop tal-”

Her words were swallowed by his swift and insistent kiss. His right hand slid gently up the back of her neck beneath her hair as his left held her firm against his middle. They rolled gently back and forth, seemingly unaware of the motion but surrendering to it all the same. Her fingers tickled down his cheek and found a home clenched in the cotton of the tee along his bicep. Their mouths opened against each other again and again, their soft tongues dancing for position, until many moments later, out of breath, Castle released his hold on her and staggered backwards. 

“Okay, we’re going to need to try that again,” Castle panted. “The second your mouth touched mine, I forgot what the hell I was supposed to be doing. But I’m ready now, 100%, I promise,” he proclaimed, though he remained bent over with his hands on his knees for support.

But she’d heard it. She’d felt it. And the very last thing she intended to do that night was apologize.

 

 

 

 


End file.
